


A Roof over Your Head and Sky beneath Your Feet

by Axolotl



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-13 12:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axolotl/pseuds/Axolotl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, it was just helping a friend in need.  Then it was playing house.<br/>But Douglas never expected this ruse to go so far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> whoa i'm not used to writing fics sorry.  
> Based on a rolepay with Chairoscuro, who is awesome and you should check her and her writing out.  
> 

Martin was quiet this flight. Very quiet, in fact. He hardly responded to any of his copilot’s smart comments or suggestions of a word game. Which was fine, except this flight was three hours either way, and Douglas was growing tremendously bored. While he always beat the captain at every game or bet they made, he at least proved more of a challenge than Arthur, who was more willing to engage in such pastimes at the moment.

But by the time they stopped, had rested, and were about to make their flight home, the boredom had become irritating.

“Would Sir like to share what’s on Sir’s mind?” Douglas teased, hoping for a reaction. “Or is it too much for our mere mortal minds to comprehend?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” That had been Martin’s response the entire trip, which obviously meant he wasn’t fine.

Douglas would have left it at that, except a bothered Martin was only fun when the first officer was the one bothering him. So, with a heavy sigh, he pressed on. “Look, Martin.” He paused, hoping this wouldn't sound too cheesy. “If something’s bothering you, you know you can tell me. Despite what you may think, I can be quite supportive when the need arises.”

Again, Martin was silent.

And Douglas had just about resigned himself to give up for now, when he looked over to notice the captain’s shoulders had begun to shake.

“… Martin, are you--?”

“I’m fine!” he barked out, and it was an order, telling Douglas to drop it and leave him be. But Douglas wasn’t one to take orders, and he always got his way. So, after a bit of prodding and teasing and coaxing, he finally got Martin to speak.

“I’ve just… had a rough few days, alright?” It wasn’t much of an answer, but at least he’d managed to get his breathing under control.

“… Can I help?” At this point, Douglas was quite tired of this depressed Captain Crieff and would have enjoyed his usual moody, awkward captain much more.

He expected another dismissal, or more silence. But instead, Martin bit his lip before replying. “No, well… I, um… I could use some help packing some stuff up in my van. Just a few things. I’m… I’m moving to a new place, so—“

“Say no more.” He had a feeling moving things wasn’t what made Martin emotional, as he did it all the time for his second job and he doubted anyone would hire a man who broke down in tears while loading up boxes. But at least he was letting Douglas do something to help. The cockpit had been getting far too depressing. “Moving on to greener pastures, are we?”

Martin hesitated. “… Well, suppose anywhere’s better than where I am now.” He tried a smile. It didn’t work.

In the hours it took them to get home, the captain seemed to relax a bit. Douglas liked to think it was because of him, though all he did was offer Martin a bit of help. And when the day came for the captain to move, Douglas arrived right on time, ready to work with only a few snide remarks about how it was an honor to serve his esteemed commander. With his help, what few possessions Martin owned were packed in the van before noon. And the ginger pilot seemed quite grateful, humble even, as he thanked Douglas profusely.

“I live to serve,” Douglas sighed as he sat with Martin at the back of the van. The younger man offered him a bagged lunch he’d made that morning, before digging into his own. His meal was a bit stale, and Douglas abhorred egg sandwiches, but he took a bite nonetheless. No sense being rude. “So where are we moving all of your earthly possessions to? A new flat? Buckingham palace perhaps?”

Martin took a bit longer than necessary to chew the bite of sandwich he’d just taken, stalling before he answered. “I’ll be taking it to the new place. You’ve done enough for me, I think. Shall I drive you home? Oh, no wait, your car. Um…” He looked from his sandwich, to Douglas’ vehicle, to a Volkswagon across the street; Anywhere but at the first officer beside him.

Well if that wasn’t suspicious.

“I could help you unload, you know. I think I can manage that much; I’m not that old yet.” Douglas tried sounding mildly offended. Perhaps that would get him answers.

“Yes, I know, but you’ve probably got other things to do and…”

“Not at all, actually. I’m free the entire day.”

“I couldn’t—“

“I insist.”

Martin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger before smoothing them over his eyebrows in exasperation. “Thank you very much for the offer, Douglas, but really…”

“Well if you’re going to deny me the pleasure of helping out an old friend, I’d at least like to know why. Have you grown weary of my presence, Captain?” His tone only grew more offended. Nothing else was working, so it was time to use guilt. Douglas Richardson always got his way, no matter what the means.

However, he wasn’t expecting the outcome of this to be similar to the flight home a few days ago. Martin kept his face hidden in his hand, and everything from his stiff shoulders to his reddening ears suggested he was trying very hard to fight his emotions, and losing.

Douglas gave him a few moments to respond, and when he didn’t, it was time to try another trick: Sympathy. He laid a surprisingly gentle hand on Martin’s shoulder. “Listen, Martin,” he began, just as he had before. “I’m no great sleuth, but it seems like something is obviously bothering you. If you just tell me, I’m sure you’ll feel much better. And it will stay between us.” Perhaps it was Martin’s pride keeping him from talking, so that point had to be made clear. And sneaky as Douglas was, he could keep a secret.

But it was that comment that seemed to really affect the captain.

“Would you, um… excuse me… I’ve just gotta check…” Martin muttered something unintelligible, rushing off to the front of the van and pretending to leaf through some papers in between the two front seats. Douglas blinked, hearing the emotion in his coworker’s voice, and got up to follow him.

“Martin?”

“Fine, I’m fine!” the ginger squeaked out, looking through the glove compartment for nothing in particular. It was useless, though. Try as he might to keep his dignity intact, eventually the tears he tried to fight won, and his shoulders shook with quiet sobs as he leaned over the seat, head in his hands. Now Douglas had seen him get emotional twice in one week. Martin was sure he’d never live this down.

Douglas watched, at a loss for what to do. He could make a playful jab, he had several in mind already, but this hardly seemed the time. Something frighteningly close to genuine concern and worry was tugging at his heart. It only got worse when the sobs Martin tried to muffle in his hands grew louder. The first officer glanced around, catching the eye of a student who was watching the display, before they hurried into the building Douglas and Martin had just left. Well this was just embarrassing now, but Douglas supposed it was now his job to comfort the poor captain. Awkwardly, he patted Martin on the back and muttered a rather unhelpful “There there.” When that didn’t work, he sighed, glancing around for any other onlookers before pulling Martin up by his shirt and into a one-armed embrace. “Come now, Martin, whatever it is can’t be that horrible.”

Oh, now Martin was burying his face in his first officer’s shoulder. If Douglas hadn’t felt that twinge of pity in his chest, he might have rolled his eyes.

When the tears stopped, the sniffling pilot pulled away from Douglas’ now-damp shirt, wiping his eyes. “Sorry, I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine… It’ll dry, I suppose.” He waited expectantly for Martin to speak again, and give some sort of explanation. And finally, he did.

“I… I’m not moving into another flat,” he admitted softly, eyes on the ground. 

Douglas’ eyebrows rose. Ah, now things were finally beginning to make some sense. “Don’t suppose you’re going to a palace, either.”

Martin shook his head, though it was a rhetorical question. “I’ve been kicked out.” The shame was clear in his voice, and in the way he hung his head. The poor lad looked so broken, nothing like his usual proud self, that Douglas couldn’t help but frown. “I bollocksed up the last few jobs with my van, and then the damn thing kept breaking down. I’ve been so low on money I couldn’t… I couldn’t keep up with the rent and...” Martin ran a hand through his ginger hair.

“And they kicked you out after—“

“Couple months.” Martin sounded even more miserable, if that was possible. In reality, he’d hardly been able to pay rent in almost four months, and he’d bollocksed up more than just a few of the van jobs.

“And you never thought to come to a friend for help?”

Martin scoffed. “Right, borrow money from you. I don’t need that debt hanging over my head.” Douglas rolled his eye, though he knew Martin had a point. He’d likely find himself using the debt as leverage for something. 

“And you’re staying… where?”

Martin still refused to make eye contact. “Well… I just need to save up for a little while. The van’s big enough to—“

“Wrong, but good guess.” Douglas frowned slightly as he inspected the wet spots on his shirt, and Martin looked at him in confusion, his eyelashes stuck together with tears.

“What do you—“

“What I mean to say, Martin, is that you happen to be blessed enough to have an extraordinarily generous friend. And this friend, as luck would have it, has a spare room that is not currently occupied.”

Martin’s watery eyes widened. “Douglas…” Shaking his head, he stammered. “I-I couldn’t, I mean—“

“You could. It would certainly make more sense than stuffing your van with everything you own while trying to make money stuffing it with everything other people own.”

“Yes but… living with you is—“

“An honor you cannot comprehend receiving, I know. But trust me, after a while you should get used to it and stop sobbing with gratitude every time you think of my generosity.”

Martin’s eyebrows pulled together as he frowned, feeling a mixture of hesitance and skepticism. Douglas could tell what he was thinking. There had to be some catch to all this. Of course, while that was the first officer’s usual style, he knew he couldn’t bear to hold this against Martin. Not after everything the captain had been through. So with a heavy sigh, he raised his hands, as if to show there were no tricks up his sleeve this time. “No catch. No debt hanging over your head. Anyway, I suppose I could use someone around for a little while. It gets a bit too quiet at Chateau Richardson.” Well, Douglas had gotten used to the solidarity after he and his third wife had divorced (and she had taken the house, leaving him in a similar situation to Martin). But having a flatmate wasn’t a terrible thought, even if it was Martin. Douglas survived hours in a cockpit with the man, and sometimes – when Carolyn was looking to save a bit of extra money - they spent nights in the same room. Surely this could be no worse.

Not to mention, as Douglas would loathe to admit, he’d feel terribly guilty leaving the captain homeless.

Martin’s shoulders slumped just a bit. “I couldn’t burden you like that.”

“Martin, if it were any sort of burden, I wouldn’t be offering it.”

The ginger man stared up at Douglas, looking less skeptical, but no less hesitant. Until, finally, he nodded and extended his hand. “Just- Just for a short time, and if I become any sort of burden, I promise I’ll go.”

“And I promise if you become any sort of burden, I’ll kick you out.” Douglas took Martin’s hand, and the two shook on it.

“Thank you, Douglas. Really.” The once proud captain now sounded so humble.

Douglas scoffed.


	2. A Little Too Domestic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> holy shIZNLit it's almost been a year since I updated.  
> I'm really sorry guys, I had like half the chapter and some of chapter 3 written in a Word folder that whole time, but life got tough and not so good, and I took a giant hiatus.  
> Hopefully I'll be updating more regularly now, but life's still been tough and motivation is hard to find. I have some of chapter 3 written already though, like I said, so hey that should be happening at least.  
> (Also, hopefully, my writing style is less shit than it has been, but I don't write often so idk we'll see.)

As it turned out, living with Martin was working out rather well. While bossy and hot-headed in the flight deck, he was considerably tamer as a flatmate. But the first officer could tell it was mostly out of guilt, and oddly enough he found that bothered him. Martin wasn’t totally comfortable. And while it was Douglas’ job to make him uncomfortable much of the time, this was different, because Martin was a guest in his home. So while he let the younger man occasionally cook them a pasta dinner or buy the groceries every once in a blue moon, he tried to make it clear that the captain owed him nothing for this. But even after two months, Martin was being annoyingly courteous.  


“Are you washing the dishes again?” Douglas’s irritation was clear.  


“Well,” Martin frowned down at the kettle he was scrubbing. “I need some pans for—“  


“Oh good God,” Douglas sighed. “Martin, this is the third time this week you’ve cooked.”  


The ginger captain looked up from the sink, confusion written on his face. “Something wrong with that?” He didn’t think his cooking was that horrible.  


“Yes, I’m afraid there is. I had no intention of adopting a housewife when I offered to let you live here. “  


Martin rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Douglas, I don’t mind. Unless, of course, you have something against my cooking.” There was a bit of a challenge in his voice.  


“Surprisingly, no.” Douglas grimaced. While Martin only knew how to make a few dishes, he made them rather well. “Still, leave the cooking to the nice chefs at that Thai place down the road for tonight. I’ve already ordered.”  


“Oh… My usual?”  


“Yes, dear,” Douglas teased, and his expression turned a bit less sour. “And this one’s on me, you paid last time.”  


Martin attempted to protest, but Douglas quickly lifted a hand, signaling for the captain to silence himself as he walked the other way. “The money’s in my coat pocket, on the hook by the door. The food should be here eventually, but I’m taking a shower. Keep an ear out for when it arrives. And so help me God if that money is still in my coat when I return.” And off he went, to wash away the stench of GERTI and a long day’s flight.  


Martin sighed, conceding defeat, and sat on the couch to watch a bit of telly while he waited. He and Douglas had grown accustomed to this sort of arguing, if it could be called that. All the captain wanted to do was repay Douglas for the oddly thoughtful favor he was doing for him, but the older pilot would have none of it.  


And Douglas was being so oddly thoughtful… Martin had suspected there would be some sort of catch to this whole arrangement, however small. He had been afraid that if he didn’t do something while living there, Douglas would think he was freeloading. It was unnerving, really. He had considered the first officer his friend, and this would be the sort of thing friends did for each other, but friend or not Douglas was Douglas.  


And Martin was Martin, and occasionally he would worry a bit too much. Alright, he did this quite often. So it was only natural for him to believe there was a reason for Douglas’ kindness. Perhaps Douglas would scorn him for buying groceries because he wanted the captain to save up for a new flat. Perhaps he wouldn’t let Martin do chores because he was doing them wrong.  


No, that wasn’t it. Logically, that wasn’t very likely. He and Douglas had grown quite close in the short couple months they’d been living together, and that explanation just didn’t seem to fit.  


Right?  


Martin was soon startled from his reverie when the doorbell rang.  


When he opened the door, however, he realized it wasn’t delicious Thai food come to greet him, but someone more familiar than a delivery boy.  


“Oh—Hello Skip!” Arthur grinned at Martin. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here!”  


Oh, well this was awkward. Martin didn’t mind seeing Arthur, not at all. He quite liked him, in fact. But even if Arthur wasn’t the most perceptive individual, this could be problematic.  


“I could say the same.” Martin blinked, glancing over his shoulder nervously. “I, um… Douglas is in the shower, but did you need something?”  


“Oh! Right, yeah, sorry.” The steward began digging in his pockets, producing a brown leather wallet. “Found this in the flight deck, I think Douglas dropped it.” He handed it to Martin, who looked fidgety and eager to get rid of Arthur before he got curious.  


“Well, I’ll be sure to give it to him. Thank you, Arthur.” Martin tried closing the door, but the other man was peeking inside still.  


“What’re you doing here anyway, Skip?” He didn’t sound suspicious, but cheerily curious.  


“I-I, um…” Martin had to think up a lie. In all the time since he’d been living with Douglas, he’d managed to keep it a secret from Carolyn and Arthur. It was a pride thing, more or less. The captain very much preferred for his employer not to know he was now homeless, and even if it wouldn’t be too embarrassing if Arthur knew (being that he was Arthur, and he’d never think any less of Martin for it), he wasn’t exactly the best person to entrust a secret with. “I was just…”  


“Are you two having a sleepover?” Arthur’s eyes lit up and his grin grew.  


Ah, well, that would do.  


“We- Yes, yeah.” Martin nodded awkwardly. “Just a… friendly sleepover!” He laughed nervously. God, that sounded strange, but if it was enough to fool Arthur…  


“Oh, brilliant!” Arthur practically bounced with excitement. “Can I join? Promise I won’t be a bother! Oh, we can play charades and roast marshmallows! I’ll have to call Mum and tell her where I’ll be of course, but I’m sure she won’t mind!”  


Martin scrambled for an excuse. “Ah, well, you see Arthur, we, um…”  


“Oh, hello Arthur. You’re not Thai food,” a voice came from behind Martin, and the ginger looked up to see a wet-haired Douglas looming over him and smiling politely at Arthur.  


“Martin said you’re having a sleepover! Would it be alright if I joined, Douglas?” As with anything in life, Arthur was intensely enthusiastic.  


Douglas raised one eyebrow, glancing at Martin, whose only explanation was a small shrug. “As much as we’d love to have you over, I’m afraid it’s not quite a party and promises to be rather dull. You see, Martin is only sleeping over because, clumsy as our poor captain is, he tripped while getting into our cab and needed a bit of first aid. Hurt his ankle quite badly.” Douglas knew it was a weak lie, certainly not one off his best, but he didn’t expect Arthur to think too hard about it. “So instead of having him climb all those stairs to get to his attic room, I offered him a place to spend the night until he feels a bit better” He clapped a hand on his captain’s shoulder. “Speaking of which, Martin, you shouldn’t be up and about. Go have a seat.”  


“Oh, right, right.” Martin handed Douglas his wallet and fake-limped to the couch. Ah, Douglas hadn't even noticed the wallet was gone. Perhaps it was a good thing Arthur stopped by before the food arrived. 

But now Arthur’s cheerful expression grew concerned.  


“Are you alright, Skipper? Did you use a bag of peas? Mum always gives me a bag of frozen peas when I hurt something!” Which was quite often.  


“I assure you, he’s well looked-after. Now, as much as I’d love to chat, Arthur, I’m afraid we’re a bit busy. Perhaps another time.”  


Arthur looked a tad disappointed, but understanding. “Oh, right. Well, feel better, Skip!” And with that, the steward waved a last goodbye and was on his merry way.  


“A sleepover?” Douglas closed the door and turned to the captain on his couch, thoroughly baffled. Martin soon broke into a fit of giggles, and the first officer’s bellowing laughter joined him.  


“I didn’t think it up!” Martin explained through a wide, amused grin. “He asked if that’s what it was. Said we could all roast marshmallows together!” He and the first officer let out another bout of laughter. “Should have told him ‘Oh yeah, campfire right in the living room, making smores!’”  


“And he’d believe you!”  


When the food arrived shortly after, the two men were given odd glances by the delivery boy for their red eyes and wide grins.  


It was the most Douglas had laughed in ages.  


********  


Living with Martin had, surprisingly, gone from tolerable to really quite enjoyable. While he still was infuriatingly polite at times, he began to loosen up a bit. As much as Douglas loathed to admit it, he made the flat a much less lonely place.  


When the captain mentioned looking for new places, Douglas found he was quick to bring up some flaw in his plan. The room he’d been looking at would be too expensive, surely, or even too cheap. He even went with Martin to a few prospective places, and managed to find every single flaw in them, which he was sure to point out to Martin. He simply couldn’t imagine Martin going back to anything less than a comfortable flat.  


Or perhaps it was something else. A tiny gnawing at the back of his mind every time he saw Martin looking through the “For Rent” section of the paper. A bit of worry when Martin talked about an affordable room.  


Alright, fine. Douglas didn’t want Martin to leave, and that was difficult for him to admit. He didn’t care if he could barely contribute to rent or if he occasionally slipped back into his old routine of nagging. Douglas was used to him being there, used to those silly freckles and stupid laugh and that hair that became a mass of untamable curls when the younger man wasn’t wearing a big ridiculous hat to keep them down. He was accustomed to his books lying around in odd places (usually books filled with planes, and more than once Douglas found a flight manual sitting on the coffee table), and his hat and jacket hanging on the hook by the door just became normal at this point. He was just used to Martin’s presence, and Douglas knew when he got used to living in a home with someone, the emptiness that was felt after their departure was unbearable.  


If Martin truly wanted to leave, he wouldn’t stop him. But he wasn’t going to encourage it, either.  


********  


It was a Saturday afternoon just like any other, with no van jobs or plane jobs, where Martin and Douglas were simply sitting on the sofa watching telly. Well, Douglas had been watching telly. Martin’s focus was mostly on the book he had perched on his knee. Douglas assumed he wasn’t paying attention, until a mildly amusing advert popped up, and there was a giggling beside the first officer.  


The advert wasn’t exactly comedy gold, perhaps just enough to make Douglas crack a smile, but when he looked over at the giggling captain beside him, his smile turned to a grin, which turned to a chuckle, which fed Martin’s laughter and let things snowball until they were both red in the face with laughter.  


And that was when it happened. When Douglas glanced over at that face, with its plethora of freckles and pink cheeks and wide, bright smile, with the edges of Martin’s eyes crinkled and the bright blue of his irises directed at Douglas. That was when Douglas was first struck with the urge to kiss him.  


A sudden terror filled him at that realization, and his laughter died off a bit quicker than Martin’s. He was soon excusing himself to the kitchen.  


Christ, he was in trouble now.


	3. Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am the queen of inconsistent updates. Basically, same excuse as the last time it took me a year to update. Life's hard and I've been distracted and ugh.  
> Anyway, hopefully the winter break will provide me with enough time and boredom to get more than one chapter written.  
> Hope you guys enjoy this, though it's 4:30am and I'm not sure if I'm a good judge of whether my writing is suitable for publication at the moment.

Arthur might not have been the brightest of bulbs, but he did notice things. 

Like how Skip seemed more happy and rested lately. Arthur loved his skipper, but he had to admit, there were times when Martin could be a bit uptight. He didn’t think it was Martin’s fault, he was just trying to be a good captain and got stressed easily, and it didn’t make him any less brilliant in the steward’s eyes. But now Skip was smiling and laughing and joking much more than normal, and it made Arthur feel all warm and smiley! 

And Douglas was… Well, he was happy too! But different. A bit more quiet. Arthur couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but something was just off about him lately. Not in a bad way, of course. He seemed happy too, especially when Martin was happy, but his snarkyness seemed to lessen a little and he got just a teeny bit less sarcastic. At first, Arthur thought the first officer might be sick, but Douglas said he felt fine. Just a “bit tired.” So Arthur was sure to bring him extra coffee!

But above all, the cabin crew was in better spirits lately than they had been in a while. And it was brilliant!

Arthur had no idea what changed, but he hoped it lasted.

********

While Martin and Douglas saw Arthur regularly on board GERTI, it was a few weeks before they heard from him outside of work.

“Douglas? It’s me, Arthur!” his cheerful voice rang through the mobile. “Y’know, you chaps are getting so forgetful! Skip’s left his phone on the plane. I found it on the ground while cleaning. Do you happen to have his address so I can bring it to him? I think Mum has it, but she’s off with Herc on a Not-Date and last time I called her when it wasn’t an emergency she got very upset and…”

Martin had been sitting beside the first officer on the couch, and blinked up at him as he heard their friend’s voice rambling from the receiver. Douglas looked right back at him.

“Ah, well…” He and Martin exchanged a few silent gestures as he tried to find a response.

“Douglas?”

“You’re in luck, Arthur, your captain happens to be with me right now.” Martin gave Douglas a wide-eyed stare and mouthed the word “NO!” But it was too late. Douglas silently shushed him. “If you like, you can—“

“Is he there? Oh brilliant! I’ll just bring it over then!”

“Yes, I suppose you could. He’ll be needing it for work, I’m sure.”

“Are you two having another sleep over? Oh, he didn’t hurt himself again, did he?”

Douglas couldn’t help a tiny smile. Meanwhile, Martin was growing increasingly anxious beside him. “No, he’s perfectly fine. We’re just...”

“Oh wow, brilliant! You two are hanging out? Gosh, you chaps have been getting on so well lately!”

“Yes, I suppose we have…”

“Well, I’ll be over in a bit, then! Can we play charades? Ooh, I’ll bring a board game! Is Cluedo alright?” Martin overheard the steward and covered his face in defeat, sighing.

“Ah—I’m afraid I only have accommodations for one guest, Arthur…”

“I’ll sleep on the couch! Or floor, I don’t mind!”

Douglas knew he couldn’t just shoo the man off again. The time he’d spent with Martin made him soft, and he dreaded the disappointment in Arthur’s voice when he was told that, again, he couldn’t join in on their ‘sleepover.’ And the more sleepovers they denied him, the more complicated things would get. They’d survive one night with Arthur, surely. “… Cluedo will be fine.” 

“Really!? Oh… Brilliant!” The excitement was clear in his voice. “I’ll be over within the hour! Just gotta get my things and leave a note for Mum… Oh this is going to be so fun! Right! I’ll see you later then!”

Douglas sighed as he hung up the phone, looking exhausted and slightly put-upon, and Martin saw it when he glanced over at him. It made him feel terrible.

“You didn’t have to do that, Douglas, really…”

“No, I believe I did. Arthur isn’t one of the most perceptive individuals, but he gets curious. I think telling him we’ve just been spending more time together is a perfect excuse. He seems content with it. Anyway, what’s one more man in the house?” He sounded tired and not terribly happy with these turn of events, and Martin couldn’t help feeling responsible. He always had a lingering fear of being a burden or overstaying his welcome, and surely, he’d hit that point now. He thought he could hear it in Douglas’ tone.

“… You could’ve just told him.”

“Told him what?”

“Y’know… About my situation.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Douglas stood, wincing at an ache in his joints. “Now, try and find anything incriminating that's lying around and hide it before he gets here.”

It was strange. Since Martin had moved in, Douglas seemed to care a bit more about the captain’s pride. Even at work, the teasing comments lessened (though never fully stopped), and it was almost unsettling. But underneath it all, it was like there was something he was hiding. Something he couldn’t find the nerve to say. Which was surprising, given it was Douglas.

Martin thought he knew what it was, though.

With a frown and heavy heart, the captain went around, picking up a book or newspaper here and there, and contemplating when he’d become such a slob. He stowed his things away in his room. Well not _his_ room, Douglas owned it. None of this was Martin’s, and he had to remember that. This was only temporary.

It didn’t take Arthur long to get there, and when Douglas let him in, he looked just as eager as he had sounded on the phone. 

“I brought a few things!” He indicated the bag in his hand, ruffling through it and pulling out items. “Cluedo, some movies, snacks—Do you chaps like jelly babies? I have big bag here! Oh! And, of course…” He produced a plastic-wrapped packet, flashing the two men a grin. “Popcorn!”

If he was nothing else, Douglas had to admit Arthur was endearing, in his own way.

“Well, that’s certainly enough to keep us busy until… 5am.” The first officer eyed the stack of movies Arthur had brought.

“Oh, don’t be silly, Douglas! I never go to bed any later than 11pm. Though once, I stayed up until--”

 _At least you have a bedtime_ , Douglas thought while Arthur rambled.

Martin took the bag from their friend and looked through it. There certainly was a lot there, but perhaps if they watched a film or two, they could still relax.

Unfortunately, Arthur was sure to suggest a round of Cluedo first. It wasn’t the worst game he could have picked, Martin usually enjoyed it enough, but he couldn’t enjoy it tonight with the nagging feeling he got whenever he glanced at Douglas and saw that exasperated look on his face. It really was bad timing. Douglas had been tired after their long flight, and Martin caught him zoning out a lot today. It was clear something was bothering him, and all he probably wanted to do was relax and watch some television or take a nap. Usually Douglas felt better after a nap…

When had Martin gotten so familiar with Douglas’ napping habits? God, he had been in that flat too long… Douglas probably thought so too.

Martin tried to take some of the stress away from his temporary flatmate by playing the host most of the evening. He got them drinks and he conversed with Arthur, keeping him busy so Douglas wouldn’t have to be too social if he wasn’t feeling well.

“Wow, Skip, you know where everything is and everything! You must have sleepovers a lot!” Arthur remarked when Martin went to get a bowl for the snacks the steward had provided.

“Ah, yes, well… I suppose so,” Martin mumbled a vague reply as he returned, and glanced over at Douglas. The first officer was rubbing his temple, the way he would when he felt a headache coming on. Martin felt another twinge of guilt.

Eventually, it got around Arthur’s bed time, and he went off to the bathroom to prepare for bed. Martin had offered him the guest room, but the steward insisted he would be fine taking the couch. When the other two men were alone in the kitchen, Martin washing dishes while Douglas dried silently, the captain decided he could take no more of this.

“… I’m sorry.”

Douglas sighed. “It’s fine, Martin, it’s not your fault.”

“No, if I wasn’t so forgetful, if I hadn’t left my phone…”

“You know, it's only Arthur, I’ve gotten quite used to being around him. It’s not as much of a bother as you seem to think.”

“No, but I’m a bother…” Martin mumbled.

Douglas blinked up at the other man. “What?”

Martin sighed, taking the dish cloth from Douglas and drying the last cup himself. “I know when I’ve overstayed my welcome, and I’ve known for a while now…”

“… Martin, whatever I’ve done to make you feel that way—“

“No, no you’ve been nothing but generous, I just… I don’t want to become bothersome.”

“Didn’t I tell you that if you ever did become a bother, I would kick you out? And lo, here you are.”

Martin still didn’t look convinced, as he frowned down at the glass he continued to wipe despite it being already well dried.

“… Look,” Martin mumbled, “perhaps this would be a lot easier for everyone if I just ended this charade.”

“Charades ended a long time ago, and I believe Arthur won 20 to nothing.”

“You know what I mean, Douglas.” Martin put the glass away in the cupboard. “Perhaps we should just… tell him.”

“Tell me what?”

Martin and Douglas turned to see a pyjama-clad Arthur standing in the threshold to the kitchen with a curious expression.

“Ah…” Martin cleared his throat. “Well, Arthur…" He glanced briefly at Douglas, "There’s something I think I should come clean about.”

Arthur blinked. “What is it Skip?”

“Well, you see… The reason I’ve been over here so often… It isn’t because we’re having sleepovers.”

“Oh…?”

Douglas glanced wide-eyed between the two, feeling a bit of panic. Martin was about to come clean about not having a home, and for the captain, this was something that was seriously damaging to his pride. Douglas knew how much it hurt Martin to think of himself as homeless, though he’d tried hard to convince him that this was his home, for as long as he’d need it. Or perhaps longer.

But most of all, Douglas felt a need to protect this secret for more selfish reasons. Martin would tell the truth because he thought he was burdening Douglas, and if Douglas let him, Martin may in fact leave. He had to stop this, both to protect Martin’s pride and to protect what they had. He wasn’t ready to let him go.

“The reason he’s over so often, Arthur,” Douglas cut Martin off. “is because… He lives here. With me. We live here together. Because... We’re dating, and we’ve decided to take the next step and move in together.” He put his arm around Martin’s shoulder, glancing down at the stunned captain’s face. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

The room was silent for a long moment, and Douglas felt Martin’s eyes on him, wide with disbelief and his face paling in shock. He was so taken aback by Douglas’ excuse that he didn’t even have the presence of mind to stop him.

Arthur, meanwhile, though looking just as shocked, certainly looked far more pleased. “You… REALLY??” His voice jumped an octave in excitement, and his grin grew impossibly wide.

“Yes, but you see, your skipper was a bit embarrassed and wanted to keep it on the down-low. Right, Martin?” Again he glanced down at the other pilot, whose face was frozen in the same expression of shocked horror. Douglas’ stomach did a nasty flip, and he swallowed. “So, Arthur, if you could try to keep this between us…”

“Mum’s the word, Douglas!” Arthur mimicked zipping his mouth, though his huge grin remained on his face. “Oh, but this is BRILLIANT, Skip! I’m so happy for you two! No wonder you have been getting along so well lately!” He practically lunged forward, and wrapped them both in a tight – but thankfully brief – bear hug.

“We’re glad to have your blessing, Arthur.” Douglas tried not to feel too much dread at how much their friend’s enthusiasm contrasted that look on Martin’s face. “Now, I do believe it is bed time. I don’t know about you, but I’m rather ready to retire for the night. Goodnight.” Douglas let go of Martin and turned to head towards his bedroom, where he could escape this whole awkward business. He heard Arthur bid him a good night, and it wasn’t long before he had the door closed behind him and he was able to fully contemplate his actions.

 _Dear God, what have I done?? Why would I say that?_ Douglas covered his face with both hands as he leaned back against the door and groaned softly. Of all the excuses he could have thought up, his brain chose that?

Well, he supposed he knew why. And that made him feel worse. One huge, sick Freudian slip. The whole day, he had been distracted and distant, because he had a lot on his mind. A lot of Martin. And certainly not about finding a way to get him to leave…

_Well, he’s certainly going to leave now, isn’t he? You have singlehandedly destroyed any chance of him staying, Douglas Richardson._

He had a real knack for making people leave him.

Did it matter, though? Perhaps it’d be better if Martin got his own place again. No doubt that would have been the thing to help repair his hurt pride, some independence, getting back on his feet. But no, now instead of helping to mend it, Douglas had shattered his pride and his trust by making a more complicated web of lies.

The look on Martin’s face still stung him. He felt a deep, throbbing pain in his chest when he thought about how horrified he looked.

_It wasn’t like you stood a chance. Get some perspective, you great git._

Douglas was startled out of his self-loathing by a firm knock on the door behind him, causing him to jump a bit and his stomach to sink even further.

When he opened the door, Martin was there to greet him, looking none too pleased.

“I need to have a word with you.”

“Yes.”

Douglas closed the door behind him.


	4. Rows and Ruses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is 6:35am and I have not slept yet and this hasn't been beta'd so hell if I know if this is ready for publication but we're doing this guys we're doing this

The clock on Douglas’ nightstand ticked away faintly as a heavy silence fell between him and the red-faced captain standing before him. Martin’s arms were crossed over his chest, and his lips were stretched into a thin line as he contemplated just what he wanted to say to Douglas. The first officer took a seat on the edge of his bed and offered Martin one in the chair at his desk, but Martin paid it no mind.

For once, Douglas felt very small in his captain’s presence.

“… I’m just…” Martin pursed his lips and looked off at the wall opposite him. His voice reached that pitch it usually did when he was particularly upset. “I’m trying to… I’m trying to imagine what must have been going through that _brilliant_ mind of yours—“

“Martin, I was just trying to—“

“—when you decided that it was a good idea –“

“—I didn’t want you to have to go through—“

“—to tell _Arthur,_ the man who probably still believes in Santa Claus—“

“—You were so upset about the thought of anyone knowing—“

“— _such a particularly problematic lie_ ,” Martin raised his voice just enough to silence Douglas’ side of the argument, but not enough to rouse any suspicion from the guest in the living room. “One that he fully believes, and will no doubt pass on to Carolyn.” Finally, he looked down at Douglas, frowning intensely.

Douglas cast his eyes down a bit lower, avoiding Martin’s gaze directly, lest it turn him to stone. “I… I suppose I just wanted to save you the embarrassment of—“

“Oh! Oh, you saved me _plenty_ of embarrassment, Douglas, don’t worry about that!”

Douglas sighed. “Martin, you just seemed so upset about what happened to you, and I didn’t want you thinking you had to compromise that information to make me more comfortable.” He squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. His stomach continued doing the unpleasant flip-flopping it had done ever since they stood in the kitchen. “I wasn’t thinking and I just… blurted it out. It certainly wasn’t one of my best lies, I’m aware of that, but I…” He swallowed. “I panicked.”

Martin stood silently for a moment. Had Douglas looked up, he would have seen his expression soften somewhat. Douglas didn’t panic. Martin, he panicked fairly often, but _Douglas_ … Douglas was always the one to keep cool in any situation. That was what made him so brilliant, and one of the traits about him that Martin envied. He thought through things, he kept a level head, he fixed problems. And he was a fantastic liar. This sort of behavior just… didn’t seem like him.

“What on earth would have made you panic?”

Douglas sat in silence for a moment, and though his head was now hung, Martin could see something in his expression change minutely.

“Well, if you must know…” The first officer let out a heavy sigh. His entire tone and demeanor became hesitant and uncomfortable. “I was… worried.”

“What did you have to be worried about? I was going to tell the truth, I was going to make things less stressful for all of us—“

“You were going to leave, Martin.”

The room grew quiet once more, save for the faint ticking from Douglas’ clock. It took things a moment to click together in Martin’s head, and when they finally did, he felt his ears burn just a bit.

“… I thought…”

“Yes, I’m aware of what you thought,” Douglas rose to his feet, pacing over to the other side of the room and putting more space between him and his captain. “You made it quite clear the entire time you have been here how you’re convinced that you’re a burden to me. Frankly, I have no idea what ever put that thought into your head.” He sounded upset, and it filled Martin with a strange unhappiness. Not the usual kind of guilt he felt, not so much because he felt he was in the way or like he was bothering anyone, but because this – the way Douglas was holding himself, the discomfort in his voice, the way he couldn’t meet Martin’s eye – just felt wrong. 

“I don’t understand…”

“I didn’t want you to go, Martin!”

Martin flinched in surprise. “… Douglas…”

The first officer waved Martin off. “I… I didn’t mean it that way, I just…” He sighed, his expression and voice softening. “Obviously, you’re free to leave whenever you wish. I don’t want to keep you here against your will, but…” His hands rested on his hips, and he looked off out the window beside him. “… I like having you here, Martin. It’s been very lonely since Helena and I split, and it’s just nice having someone else around to talk to.” God, that sounded pathetic, but if one of them was going to come clean about something, he’d prefer it be this way than the alternative. “And you’re surprisingly easy to get along with, when you’re not trying to be my captain and you’re just… my friend.” 

_No, being just friends with you isn’t easy at all. But see? I haven’t completely lost my ability to lie._

There was a long pause, but when Martin eventually spoke, his voice was soft. “You mean that…?”

Douglas sighed again. “Yes. Are you happy now?”

“… I’m not sure what to say…”

“Oh, cut it, that’s quite enough emotion for one night.” Douglas rubbed his temple. He felt a headache coming on.

Martin shifted awkwardly, biting his lip and looking to the floor. Douglas only had to glance up a moment to see his blush, and he instantly wished he hadn’t. God, it wasn’t fair how endearing the red on his face was.

“Well,” Martin cleared his throat. “I… I’m touched to hear that, Douglas, b-but there’s still the matter of Arthur, and the fact that he still believes we’re…” He gestured vaguely between them.

“Yes. He does, doesn’t he… Well…” Douglas let out another sigh, and straightened. “I apologize for that, but I suppose you could... tell him the truth. Or you could tell him part of the truth, anyway. Tell him you’re living here for some other reason; The whole relationship thing was just a silly joke, and make up another reason for you being here.”

“What other reason could I give?”

“That I will leave up to your imagination, Captain. I think mine has gotten us into enough trouble for one evening.” Douglas returned to sitting on the edge of his bed.

Martin looked conflicted for a moment, and Douglas cursed the beautiful hint of pink that remained on his captain’s face. “I… Well… It’s not…” He cleared his throat. “I can’t really… think of another reason, to be perfectly honest… Nothing convincing, anyway.”

“I’m sure Arthur would be convinced by anything.”

“Yes, but would Carolyn?”

Douglas raised an eyebrow. “And would you be willing to let Carolyn believe the lie Arthur’s already been told?”

Martin scoffed, smiling just slightly. “Carolyn wouldn’t believe we were in a relationship.”

“And why ever not? I dare say you could do worse.” Douglas tried to feign offence. It earned him a small chuckle from the other man.

“… Well, I… I suppose…” Martin shrugged, sighing. “… It’s either I’m gay or I’m homeless, isn’t it?”

“An interesting dilemma, I’ll admit.”

“Yeah, thanks to you.” The younger man thought again for a long moment, chewing on his thumb nail. “Just… Just for a short time? I mean, I… I’m very flattered by what you said, Douglas, but eventually I’ll—“

“You’ll be moving on, I know.” Douglas’ heart sank for the umpteenth time that evening. “On to greener pastures.”

“… Well, then I suppose… embarrassing as it is …” Martin fidgeted nervously. “… Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Douglas looked at Martin in surprise. Was he really willing to go along with this?

God, the first officer wasn’t sure if he could survive that sort of ruse.

“… It’s only for a short time, until I do get a new place. B-But I have some very firm boundaries.”

Douglas felt a strange mixture of hope and dread.


	5. Darling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WHOA another update I'm on a roll.
> 
> I feel like I've gone from following both their perspectives to following Douglas' more and more, and I think I might do that for a while. It leaves Martin's POV a bit more ambiguous, though some things become apparent.
> 
> Again, going unbeta'd, except for a few bits and pieces I show to my gf while she's awake, so I hope everything sounds alright. Maybe I'll edit it tomorrow.

Martin and Douglas’ ruse had begun awkwardly. Douglas had no problem respecting Martin’s boundaries – No unwarranted touching, no going overboard, no acting like a couple around anyone who wasn’t Arthur, and absolutely no PDA, no matter how fake it was – as he feared that, had he crossed any of those lines, he himself may get lost in the lie and forget his place.

But after a certain point, when the dread Douglas felt wore off and things began to settle back into normalcy, it became something of a game between the two. An inside joke. Arthur would show up to the flight deck with their coffee, and Douglas would call Martin some ridiculous pet name. The moment their steward was gone, they were both giggling to themselves. It began a rather interesting in-flight game, in fact: “Most Embarrassing Endearments.”

The joke, of course, was supposed to end the moment they got home. But the occasional jab in the middle of dinner was common.

As happy as this playful familiarity made Douglas, though, he often had to remind himself that it was all, in fact, a joke. It always would be. Well, until Martin moved out, and then even their joke of a relationship was gone.

“… Endearments following the alphabet,” the first officer began a game one flight, while Arthur made their dinners.

“Ooh! Alright, you start.”

“Amour.”

“Pfft. Hm… Buttercup.”

“Creampuff.”

“Darling.”

“Oh, surely you can think of a better one than that,” Douglas scoffed.

“Ah ah, never said they had to be clever. Your turn.”

“Hm… Enchanting.”

“That’s not a pet name”

“It’s not ‘Pet Names Following the Alphabet,’ is it?”

“Fine. Um… Fair?”

“Fair enough. Gorgeous.”

“And you call me uncreative,” Martin grinned. “Honeybun.”

“Image of beauty.”

“J… Hm…” Martin thought a moment, biting his lip. Douglas looked over at him, watching the way the fading orange light from the setting sun reflected off the ocean and highlighted his captain’s hair. He thought how it simply wasn’t right how tame it looked today. Martin’s hair was much better when he’d just woken up and came down to breakfast with it in a mess of curls.

“Je t’aime?” Douglas sighed.

“I suppose so, I can’t think of anything better.” His captain shrugged. “Guess I’ll do the next one. Kissable?”

“Quite.”

“Hm?”

“Here you are, Chaps!” Their steward arrived with their microwaved meals, interrupting their game. Douglas was all too grateful at this point.

****

It was two weeks into their little charade, and if Arthur had let the secret slip, Carolyn never let on. Which was surprising, really. If this secret had been kept, it was probably the longest Arthur had managed to keep one in his entire life.

The steward, however, remained convinced that the pilots were in a loving relationship with each other, and he was still overjoyed about it. So much so that when the two would have any sort of disagreement in his presence, he’d grow visibly anxious and attempt to quickly calm them both down. It was endearing, and a bit sad. When Martin snapped at him for getting in the way of his and Douglas’ argument, Arthur’s response was “I just—I don’t like when people who love each other fight. It could end badly, and I really don’t want this to end badly, chaps.” He had, after all, had to witness his own parents’ separation as a child, and while he was one of the most optimistic people they knew, that no doubt left scars.

It was enough to calm any fight that would happen on the flight deck, no matter how one-sided and secret any love in their “relationship” was. To their credit though, Martin and Douglas fought much less now than they ever had. But it also left both of the men feeling guilty, because they knew as soon as Martin found a new place, Arthur would have to witness their “breakup.” Douglas had been through divorces, he had a child, and it felt a bit like the guilt he felt towards his daughter when he and his first wife split.

“What will we tell him when this does end?” Douglas wondered aloud as he and Martin sat alone in the flight deck.

“When what--? Oh…” Martin’s expression changed into something very close to disappointment, and he cleared his throat. “Well… We’ll say it just didn’t work out, I suppose.”

Douglas hummed softly. “That… we decided we were better off as just friends?”

“… Yeah…”

The first officer watched Martin a moment. He looked quite unhappy.

No doubt he wasn’t looking forward to disappointing Arthur.

****

A week later, there was a layover in New York, and none of the crew (save Arthur) seemed pleased about it.

“We won’t be leaving until afternoon tomorrow, meaning we won’t return home until quite late,” Carolyn reminded Martin before the flight to America. “Am I safe in assuming you two gentlemen will survive in one room together for the night?”

Martin stammered, caught a bit off-guard. “I-I—Well, I suppose it’s not—“

“Well, everything is booked, so that was the answer I was hoping to hear, thank you Martin. Ah, and here comes Thing 2!” she called as Douglas entered the portacabin after going off to find a coffee. “Right, you have an hour to get us in the air, boys.”

Soon, with preflight checks complete and the passengers boarded, Martin sat rather nervously in his captain’s chair. It didn’t escape Douglas’ notice.

“… Is Sir quite alright?” It was the 7th time MJN had flown to New York, and Douglas saw no reason for Martin to be anxious. Then again, this was Martin.

“D-Did Carolyn discuss the rooming situation with you?”

“Yes, I believe she mentioned it. Why?”

“Oh, I knew it! She knows, doesn’t she? I knew it would just be a matter of time before—“

Douglas raised an eyebrow. “Come now, Martin, this isn’t the first time she’s put us in a room together. You’re forgetting our employer is famously frugal. She’ll find any way to save a quid or two.”

Martin took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “You’re right… Yes, you’re probably… That must be it, yes.”

Douglas watched Martin curiously. He calmed slightly, but still remained a bit on edge for the entire trip to the Big Apple.

It didn’t help when they arrived at their room to find only one bed. 

The first officer decided that perhaps his captain needed some help calming his nerves.

“Fancy a drink?” Douglas suggested, before Martin could say anything about the room, though he noticed the ginger’s jaw drop and face pale some. It was almost a full 24 hours before their trip back, and he thought Martin could afford to drink tonight.

Martin took a deep breath, setting down his bag and rubbing his temple. “I thought you didn’t—“

“I don’t, but I think you should.”

“… Yes, I think so.”

****

“I don’t see why she would believe it, anyway,” Martin’s words came out a bit slurred. Impressive, considering he’d only had two whiskeys. (Douglas wasn’t even aware the captain drank whiskey.)

“Let it go, Martin.” Douglas sipped his virgin drink. He’d thought a bit of alcohol would take Martin’s mind off the room situation, but it did little to help. “Shall I order you another?”

“Just one more, I think…”

Douglas signaled to the bartender to bring over more booze.

“This happens a lot, y’know.” Martin’s head hung over his empty glass as he slumped over the bar.

“You getting sloshed after a few sips?”

“No. People thinking I’m gay.”

“And whatever for?”

“I don’t know.” Martin shook his head. “I mean… I’ve never done anything with a man. I… Well, I kissed one once, I think, but that’s a secret, so don’t tell Arthur.”

Douglas’ eyebrows rose in intrigue. “Do tell.”

Martin waved his hand dismissively, and another drink was placed before him. “Don’t like talking about it…”

“Hm…”

“It was in uni,” Martin began, despite his unwillingness to talk about it. “I was a bit drunk, I think. He was too. He didn’t really like me, though.”

“And… did you like him?”

“What? No, no… I mean, he was handsome, sure, everyone thought so, but I’m not gay…”

“Never said you were.” Douglas tapped his fingers on the counter thoughtfully.

“Are you?”

“I’ve been married three times, Martin. As I recall, they were all women.”

“Right, right…” Martin took two gulps of whiskey and winced.

“… But you want to know a secret?”

“Wassat?”

“You don’t need to be gay to enjoy the company of men.” Douglas smirked, and Martin chuckled.

“ _You?_ ”

“There is a lot more than gay and straight, Martin.”

“Ah, yeah…” Martin looked off unseeingly at the bottles behind the bar. “… Explains a lot…”

“Hm?”

“Well how did you get so many women anyway?”

“A lot of charm and charisma. And wearing a uniform helps.”

“It helps _you._ ” Martin pouted.

“Well, there are other ways to attract someone.” Douglas watched his captain down the last bit of his third drink. “… Sometimes, you’re not even trying and it happens.”

“Not for me…”

“You’d be surprised.”

The comment seemed to escape Martin. “Women just make me nervous—“

“Everything makes you nervous.”

“—and I just… I don’t like having to talk to them sometimes. Well, I want to be able to talk to one without feeling like a tit, that’d be nice. Gets lonely, you know…” Martin scoffed and looked down at his now-empty glass. “Almost makes me consider trying men.”

“Does it?” Douglas swirled his drink. “Would you be… more comfortable doing that?”

“Probably. But I’m not gay.”

“Never said you were…”

****

By the time Douglas was bringing Martin back to the hotel, he was by far the most drunk the first officer had ever seen him. It was fascinating, really. Martin wasn’t an overly annoying drunk, but he did giggle a bit more, and his cheeks and ears remained a charming shade of red. He also leaned on Douglas quite a lot for support, even when they were in their cab.

“Douglas? C’n I ask you something?” Martin slurred as he was lead into their room. Dougas sat him on the edge of the bed, leaning down to remove his captain’s shoes for him.

“Whatever is on Sir’s curious mind.” He placed Martin’s shoes on the floor by the bed, and moved to remove the younger man’s jacket.

“When we’re broken up… can you still call me stuff?”

Douglas paused, Martin’s coat draped over his arm. “What sort of stuff?”

“Y’know… Endearments.” Martin loosened his tie and kicked off his socks.

“And why would you want me to do that?”

Martin shrugged. “It feels nice.”

Douglas walked to the other side of the room, hanging up their coats by the door. “Hm…”

“No one’s ever really… done that with me.”

Douglas turned to look at the younger man. “… And what would you like me to call you, then?”

“I think… I like ‘Darling.’”

A sad smile curled Douglas’ lips. “We’ll see…”

“It’s simple, but nice. Feels nice.”

“I always thought you liked ‘Sweetheart’ best. Always makes your ears red.”

“That too…”

Douglas sat on the edge of the bed beside his friend. He didn’t look at Martin, who had now flopped back onto to covers and sighed heavily.

“Douglas…?”

“Yes, Darling?” The first officer smirked weakly.

“How do you know if you like… more than just women?”

Douglas closed his eyes a moment, willing away the bit of hope he felt. “Sometimes it’s complicated. Sometimes you’re straight, and then one day there’s someone who makes you question everything…”

Martin was quiet a long moment.

“… We never kiss…”

Douglas’ heart thumped.

“No…”

“How come?”

“... We’re not really together, Martin…”

“Right…”

The two sat in silence a while.

“… Maybe you shouldn’t call me darling, then.”

“As Sir commands…”


	6. A Trial Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what i didn't write half of this tipsy what do you mean pffft.  
> BUT EH I GOT IT DONE BEFORE THE NEW YEAR YEAH  
> I'm going to apologize right now to the person who rped this story with me for diverting QUITE A LOT from the original story, but i can't remember much because it was so long ago. Hopefully this is still okay.  
> Martin's a baby homo who's learning to spread his wings and blossom into the beautiful gay butterfly he was always meant to be.

Morning did not treat the MJN captain well. He woke with the feeling that his head had surely been run over with a steamroller, and every muscle in his body protested any movement. The room seemed far too bright, though the curtains were only open a crack. With a groan, he hid away in his blanket.

Ah, now he remembered. He had drunk quite a bit more than usual last night. He remembered little beyond that, except…

Martin reached a hand out, over to the other side of the bed, only to discover there was no ‘other side.’ He was taking up the entire middle, and no one was there to share his covers with. He blinked confusedly and winced as he peeked out from beneath the blankets.

“Ah, good morning, Captain Sunshine.” Douglas dropped a bottle of pain relievers beside Martin’s head, and the rattling of the pills was like nails in a blender to the captain. He felt the bed dip as Douglas sat beside him, holding out a glass of water. “Sleep well?”

“What time is it…?” Martin fumbled with the bottle before pouring a bit too many pills out into his hand. Douglas set down the water and picked out two for him so he could pour the rest back in.

“Nearly two o’clock. I’d expected you to be asleep longer, actually. You were quite pissed when we got back.”

“Two?” Martin sat up a bit too quickly and grimaced. “We leave at four!”

“Yes, so you better get rid of that hangover quickly.”

Martin groaned. “Why did you let me drink so much?” He swallowed his pills without water.

“You didn’t drink so much. You just happen to be the world’s lightest of lightweights. How was I supposed to know?” Douglas offered him the glass once more before standing. “Drink up, you’re dehydrated.”

“Yes, Mum.” Martin winced around at the room, and vowed never to drink again. Not that he drank often, specifically for this reason. A beer would get him buzzed, and from what he understood, he wasn’t a very fun drunk.

Though most of his attention was on the throbbing in his head, the captain did notice a blanket and pillow on the small couch across the room. It made him feel a little bit more horrible.

“Did you sleep on the couch, Douglas?”

“I thought Sir would be more worthy of the bed than a lowly cabin boy such as myself.”

“You could’ve… I mean… There’d be room enough for two, if you just shoved me aside.”

“I think not, you’re quite greedy with the covers. But I’m not bitter about it, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure…?”

“Well, this way we get to complain to Carolyn, and perhaps she’ll not make a habit of this.” Douglas stretched, his back to Martin so the captain couldn’t see him wince at his achy muscles. “Best go clean up, I think. We might have time for a late lunch.”

“… Right…” 

****

With Martin’s head still pounding, he agreed to relinquish power to Douglas for the majority of the trip back home. But something else was bothering Martin. He may not have had a lot to drink, but he could only retain the haziest memory of what happened last night. He knew he and Douglas talked at a bar, but he couldn’t really remember what about.

_“But you want to know a secret?”_

_“You!?”_

Clearing his throat, Martin glanced over at his first officer.

“I hope I wasn’t annoying last night. I hear I can be a bit… chatty when I’m drunk.”

“No, no you were a perfect gentleman, I assure you.”

“Oh, good, ‘cause… I-I don’t really remember much, so…”

“Don’t you? Hm…”

“… Douglas.”

“Yes?”

“If you try using anything as blackmail—“

“Moi? Why, _Captain_ , I’m offended!”

“I’m serious, Douglas!”

“Relax, Martin. Nothing interesting enough to blackmail occurred last night.” A small, playful smile remained on the first officer’s face. “You simply asked for a bit of… advice.”

Martin looked wary. “Advice?”

“Yes. Romantic advice.”

Martin kept his expression carefully blank, but he couldn’t stop the color from blossoming on his cheeks. “Did I? Well…” He cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I didn’t… retain any of that information.”

“No, I didn’t think you would.”

An expectant silence hung in the air for a few long moments.

“Could you… repeat it?”

“Well, my memory is a bit fuzzy as well, I’m afraid. But… I do recall you mentioning your luck – or lack thereof – with the fairer sex.”

Martin’s blush deepened. “Ah…”

“Actually, to be truthful, I didn’t have to offer much advice. You provided your own possible solution.”

“Did I…?”

“Yes.” Douglas straightened in his chair. “You mentioned trying your luck with men.”

Martin scoffed a bit too loudly. “Oh, very funny, Douglas!” His laugh came a bit too forced, and Douglas’ eyebrow rose.

“I see nothing funny about it. If you think I would make a joke about such a thing, I’m wounded.”

“Right, well, I understand our little charade has all been in good fun, but I can’t see myself _seriously_ considering…”

“Is there anything wrong with it?”

“What? No, I just—“

“Because you may not recall but I do remember coming clean to you about something I had held very private.”

“What—Oh…” Martin blinked, as one memory found its way through the haze of last night. “You mean the… thing about you and…?”

“Ah, so you do remember something.” Douglas smirked.

“W-Well I… I didn’t mean it that way, I’m sorry—“

“No offense taken. I am simply telling you this for your sake, so you’re aware… Well. I wouldn’t mock you for it, and there’s no shame.”

The flight deck was quiet for a full awkward minute.

“… Do you think I should?” Martin’s voice was small.

“Hm?”

“Y’know.” He fidgeted awkwardly. “Try… new things.”

“That, my friend, is something that is entirely up to you. But, if you want my advice… I think it wouldn’t hurt to try.” Douglas looked over at his copilot, who continued to watch the clouds pass by outside. “So long as you’re trying it with someone who is aware that it’s something of a… trial run.”

“And where would I find someone like that?”

“They’re rather easy to come across, actually.”

Martin scoffed. “Well, I’m not… I wouldn’t be looking for any one-night stands. All I’ve ever looked for with women is… You know… Relationships.”

“Well, go on a date with a man and see how it goes. It’s only one date, it would be like any other. If you don’t click, you don’t need to keep seeing them.”

“That always gets messy, though.” Martin knew; He had been on a few dates, and few of them went on to a second. Normally, by the woman’s decision. He sighed softly. “I wish you could… trial-run a date.”

Douglas hummed thoughtfully.

“… What?”

“Hm? Nothing, just thinking.”

“No, don’t give me that, you always get that look when you’re up to something.”

“Again, you wound me, Captain. I was simply considering helping you with your dilemma by securing you a ‘trial-run date,’ as you call it. But, if you don’t trust me…”

Martin didn’t look any less suspicious, but he bit his lip in thought. Douglas had to restrain a small smirk, the kind he wore whenever he knew he was winning something.

“… What do you mean by that?”

“I just happen to know someone who is in a similar situation to you, and I believe you’d be good for each other. And, should things not work, you are under no obligation to continue.”

“And… who is this someone?”

“A man, I will tell you that much.”

“… Oh…”

“If you are comfortable with that.” It was both a statement and a question.

“… I suppose… Well, i-if it doesn’t work out… No harm done?”

“Precisely.” 

****

“Douglas, maybe this is a mistake—“

“Ah ah, no backing out of it now. You gave me your word, Martin.”

“I said I’d consider.”

“Well, it’s a bit late to reconsider, I think. Besides, you look fine.” Douglas considered the button-up Martin wore. It was neatly ironed, like most things the captain wore, and not too formal or too casual for the occasion. It looked… rather nice. His hair, however, was annoyingly perfect.

“Now, I will escort you to—“

“W-What, you, why??”

“Well, I just thought, since you said you’ve never heard of this restaurant—“

“I thought you were going to give me directions, not drive me there.”

“Martin, to be blunt, your van is probably not something you want to make a first impression with.”

Martin’s face grew red, and he frowned indignantly. “My van is fine. And how will I get back?”

“You simply inform me that you need a ride home. Or, things go well enough that you’re taken to his home…”

“A-Alright, fine! Just… shut it!” Douglas smirked at how flustered his friend had become.

“Shall we, then?”

Martin was quiet as they got in Douglas’ car, but the closer they got to their destination, the more fidgety he got.

“A-Are you sure about this, Douglas? I mean… What do I talk about? What do I say? I don’t even know how to do this right with women—“

“Relax, Martin. I assure you, you will get along fine with this gentleman.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” The first officer parked beside one of Fitton’s nicer restaurants. It wasn’t a five star, but it was certainly nicer than anything Martin had been in, he could tell that just by looking at it.

“A-Alright, well… I’ll see you lat—What are you doing?” Martin stepped out of the car and turned around to see Douglas doing the same.

“Escorting you.”

“W-Why?”

“So you are able to find the right table.”

“I’m capable of doing that on my own, thank you!”

“The table is reserved under my name, Martin. My little gift to you.”

“God, fine—Fine. If you must follow me around like a-a chaperone at a school dance.”

Douglas accompanied Martin into the building, and to the captain’s chagrin, walked him to his table in the corner, that had yet to be occupied. It was indeed a nice restaurant. The dim light and golden glow of candles created a sort of ambiance that was both relaxing and a huge, glaring reminder that this was real. Martin was going on a date – a sort of… prelude-to-a-date, but a date nonetheless – with a man. It made him all the more nervous.

“Alright, Douglas, I’m here without any injuries. Now as grateful as I am for your help, will you _please—_ “

“No, I’m afraid not, Martin.”

“He’ll be here any minute!” the captain hissed.

“He’s already here, actually.”

“W-What, where?” Martin swung his head around, searching the room. Douglas placed a cloth napkin on his lap.

“Right here.” He smirked at the captain. “I am your trial run.”


	7. Lessons from the Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> is it gay in here or is it just me

Martin stared at the man across from him, looking just as shocked as he had the day Douglas had told Arthur they were dating. Well, at least after tonight, that wouldn’t be a _complete_ lie, would it?

“You may want to close your mouth, Martin, it’s a bit rude.” Douglas picked up one of the menus that had been presented to them and glanced through it.

“Y-You—W-What do you mean?”

“I mean you look rather silly with—“

“No, I mean, _what do you mean?_ ”

Douglas glanced up from his menu. “I mean what I said. I am your trial date. I’ll teach you how to go on a successful date with a man, and, by extension, with a woman.” He frowned. “Really, I’m doing you a favor, stop looking so appalled.”

“Douglas, people already think—“

“Yes, so what harm will it do?”

“This is ridiculous.” The captain covered his face, which had grown quite red.

“I don’t hear that often from dates, I’ll be honest.”

“No, Douglas, this is _not_ a date, this is—“

“A trial date. As in no risk, no commitment. I am simply here to—“

“To make a fool of me.”

“No, I only want to help—“

“No, Douglas, because the only reason you would invite me to do something like this is to get a laugh, and I know it.”

“… Martin, how long have you known me?”

“Long enough to know that this is the exact sort of thing you would do!”

Douglas frowned, upset by Martin’s words. “You really don’t think I’m capable of helping a friend without—“

“Helping, yes, because that’s what it was when you told Arthur I was gay!”

Douglas lowered his voice as Martin’s grew more in volume, not wanting to attract too much attention, and he leaned over the table. “Who took you in, Martin? Have I not yet earned your trust? Have I not proven to you that I actually, despite what you may think, genuinely care about you? I know we’ve had our differences, but I should think that, by now, it’s quite obvious how I consider you to be a very dear friend, and I want nothing but to help you.”

Martin looked away, ears growing that familiar shade of red. “… I don’t need your help with this, Douglas.”

“I beg to differ.” Douglas straightened up in his seat.

“I’m sorry, I can’t—“ Martin rose from his seat, and Douglas leaned forward once more to stop him by the wrist.

“Martin, stay.”

“I can’t do this, Douglas.”

“And how will you get home?” The first officer raised an eyebrow. 

Martin was quiet a moment, before he fell back into his seat with a sigh. He had some money on him, enough for a meal and certainly enough for a cab ride home, but at this point, he was tired of arguing. And he didn’t want to return home with Douglas after this sort of argument.

“… This is ridiculous, absolutely—“

“Yes, and you’re welcome.” Douglas smiled at him, pleased that he’d once again gotten his way. “Now, the waiter will arrive any moment, so take a glance at your menu or I’ll be ordering for you.”

“Not sure I’m very hungry now…”

“My, if this is how you act on dates, it’s no wonder you have such bad luck.”

Martin glared weakly at Douglas, but sighed in defeat. “… What are we doing here, Douglas?”

“Well, as I attempted to explain before Sir got so resistant, I am going to teach you how to date a man.”

“By what, making me the woman?”

“No, by making us both the men. You see, that is what dating a man is like.”

Their waiter arrived soon enough, and when Martin announced he wasn’t hungry, Douglas ordered for him. He knew his tastes well enough by now. And he knew better now than to order any wine for the captain.

“Martin, you really should lighten up a bit. This isn’t as terrible as you seem to think.”

Martin crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. He looked very bothered, and that look created a nasty knot in Douglas’ stomach. Surely, the thought of going on a date with the first officer wasn’t that horrible. Plenty of other people had done it, and enjoyed it. He liked to think he had a very high approval rating for dates.

Finally, Martin sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m just… You don’t have to do this, Douglas, really.”

“I know that. I want to, though.”

“You’ve… been wanting to help me a lot lately, a-and I just don’t know how to react to it all.”

“Well, if I might suggest, a good way to react in this situation might be to say something along the lines of, ‘Oh Douglas, you are truly the kindest man I’ve ever known. You have a heart of gold and the face of Adonis. Why, anybody would be blessed to go on a date with you, and I am simply honored to have the opportunity—‘“

“Yes, yes, alright.” Martin smiled, despite himself, and it made Douglas smile too. “So… What do we do?”

“We relax, talk, enjoy a meal. It’s really not all that complicated, once you get the hang of it.”

“It always seemed more complicated than that.”

“And therein lies your problem. You think too much.”

Martin took a deep breath. “I’m told I do that a lot…”

“Well, try not to think tonight, Captain. And please, do try to have a bit more trust in me.”

“… I know, I’m sorry…” The captain visibly relaxed in his seat, and Douglas was glad he was no longer trying to escape. He was also glad that disgusted look had been wiped from his face. Surely, dating the first officer wasn’t that horrible of an idea.

“Thank you.”

Their food arrived quickly enough, and by the time it did, Martin had regained some of his appetite. Douglas’ pick for him was actually very good, and the food put him in a better mood.

“I’m guessing you’ve been here often,” Martin commented between bites.

“A few times.”

“Mm… I’ve never really been anywhere this fancy for a date.”

“Well, I wouldn’t think so, on your budget.” Martin frowned at that comment, but Douglas shook his head. “It’s not a bad thing. Not every good date involves expensive restaurants.”

“I haven’t had many good ones, expensive or not…”

“Surely, you’ve had one nice date.”

Martin shrugged. “Nothing… life-changing. I mean, I’ve dated, sure, but it wasn’t often I got up the courage to ask a woman, and even less often that it went on to a second date.”

“Mm…” Douglas hummed, glancing up at Martin. “And where would you take these women?”

“I dunno, usually… movies, or something. Nothing very creative…”

“Well, movies are a horrid place for a first date. There’s nothing personal there, no talking or getting to know each other. They’re more for later on, when you know the person well enough, and you perhaps want to go somewhere public but dark and—“

“Oh god, alright, that’s enough, please.” Martin looked disgusted yet amused, and laughed. “And what would you suggest, then?”

“A restaurant like this is nice, when you are just getting to know someone. It’s personal, and food is involved, which is a plus for most people, I’ve found. But they’re more first date sort of things.”

“And what’s… second date?”

“When you’ve talked to them enough and perhaps know a bit more about them, take them to something recreational that you think they’ll enjoy. A walk through the park, perhaps, or if they’re more outdoorsy, invite them on a hike.”

“I don’t see you being much of an outdoors man.”

“Lord no, but that doesn’t mean I’ve never dated an outdoorsy woman. Or man, actually. I had met one nice fellow in my younger years, liked mountain climbing, but he could never get me to agree to that. So we settled on a leisurely hike.”

For Martin, it was odd to hear about Douglas’ romantic exploits with men, but it somehow didn’t surprise him as much as it should have. Douglas had had more women than Martin had probably even met, so it should have been no surprise he’d seen men as well. But there was something nice about it. The first officer had never spoken of this before, so opening up about it now showed he had some trust in Martin. It made him feel… closer. Comfortable.

Martin liked that feeling.

“I once dated a woman in uni who owned one of those doggy daycares.”

“Oh what a life you have lived.”

Martin glared playfully before continuing. “She asked me to fill in one day when her mother was sick in the hospital. I had no idea what to do, and she ran it from her home, so there wasn’t anyone around to help. Very small business. When she came home to find a dog missing and her house a bit… less tidy than she’d left it… Well, it was a very short-lived relationship.”

Douglas chuckled. It was far too easy for him to imagine that scenario. “What, did Sir have trouble taming the beasts?”

“They were beasts, her friend’s shih tzu tore out half of my Principles of Aviation textbook!” That earned more laughter from the first officer.

“Perhaps if you had had a cap to don, they would have had greater respect for your authority!”

Martin shook his head, but his smile widened. “I can’t even get you to behave, I don’t know how I’d be able to manage a pack of dogs.”

 _Oh, I’m sure if you wanted, you could have me wrapped around your little finger,_ Douglas thought.

“You can’t expect me to behave when riling you up is so much fun,” the first officer teased, and Martin blushed at that comment, chuckling.

“Yes, I know you have fun. But don’t think this excuses you.”

“And what is ‘this?’” Douglas raised an eyebrow in intrigue.

“You know.” Martin gestured vaguely. “This.”

Douglas hummed softly, sipping his drink. “Tell me more about your little exploits. I’m sure our captain has some interesting stories he’s not sharing.”

“Well…” Martin thought a moment, twirling his fork around in his pasta. “I had briefly seen this one girl who raised these birds, and—W-What are you, um…?” He looked down at his hand that had been resting on the table, and that now had Douglas’ hand resting upon it.

“I told you, this date is to see whether you could be comfortable dating a man.”

“B-But…” The captain’s face had gone an impressive shade of red.

“Could you get comfortable with this?”

“I… I’m not sure…”

“Well give it a minute, and in the meantime, tell me about these birds.”

****

By the time they arrived back home, Martin was in much better spirits. He’d been smiling during much of their conversation on the way home, and every time Douglas glanced over and saw it, the smile became contagious. As the older man parked outside the flat and turned off the engine, Martin unbuckled and went to open his door, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm.

“Before I walk you to the door, Martin, I’d like to know: Did you enjoy our little trial date?”

Martin let out an awkward laugh, and Douglas found it charming how embarrassed he looked. “It was… surprisingly enjoyable, thank you.”

“Good.” Douglas let him go, and got out of the car himself. Martin walked beside him to the door and into the building, hands in his pockets.

As they got into Douglas’ flat and shed their coats, Martin looked hesitant about something, and Douglas noticed. He took his time hanging up his things, waiting for the captain to get up the courage to say whatever it was he was hesitating to say.

“Douglas?”

“Hm?”

“I, um… I was wondering… C-Could you… I mean, I think I still have a bit more to learn, a-and I was wondering if we could, um…”

“You’re free tomorrow night as well, correct?”

“Um, y-yes, I should be, after my van job, yeah.”

“Good. Because I have something else I want to teach you.” Douglas smiled, and went off to bed.


	8. Martin's Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things get less gay and it's not okay  
> (shit im so tired i feel like this chapter doesn't start off so good but idk how to fix it and sleep imma sleep night)

Douglas smiled down at the dinner he was preparing, feeling rather pleased with himself. He already had Martin hooked, and now he just had to reel the captain in. A little dinner, some lavish desert he was in the process of baking, and afterwards, he would teach Martin to dance. He’d hold him close and sway him back and forth and perhaps whisper by his ear. Dancing was often an important part of dating, and this was, after all, a “training exercise.” Though, living with Douglas had probably been training enough, as the first officer fully expected Martin’s next relationship to be with him.

If he was lucky (and he was), he may even seduce the captain enough to earn himself a kiss tonight. Perhaps he could convince Martin to go along with a bit of “kissing instruction” – All a part of the training, of course. Kissing was a very important part of a relationship, and it would be beneficial (for the both of them) if Martin could hone his skills.

Douglas, naturally, had no intention of tricking Martin into kissing or dating him against his will. He simply aimed to trick Martin into falling in love with him. Not one of his usual tricks. He was going to get his captain used to the idea of not just having romantic dinners and seductive hand-touchings and slow dances with a man, but having them with _him._ And when Martin got used to the idea and fell absolutely madly in love with him, there Douglas would be, ready to catch the ginger in his arms and sweep him off his feet. It was a flawless plan, really. Then again, most of Douglas’ plans were flawless.

And like most things, Douglas was confident about this. Completely confident.

 _Nearly_ completely confident.

… Nope. Confident. Martin didn’t seem like a difficult man to seduce, once you got past his stark and conservative exterior. And even if he was, Douglas liked a challenge.

Martin came home after his van job a little late, but it gave Douglas enough time to make some finishing touches. When he walked in, he could immediately smell the food Douglas had just been setting on the table. Shucking off his coat and shoes, he walked into the dining room with a grin.

“God, Douglas, that smells delicious! What is it?” 

The first officer looked up to see the red on Martin’s nose and ears from the chill outside, and the pink on his cheeks that was most likely only partially to do with the weather.

“I believe you mentioned liking the cod I made before. I hope you’re a fan of salmon.” And beautifully garnished salmon it was, on some of Douglas’ finer dishes. The first officer had even lit some candles, though he hadn’t dimmed the lights all the way yet. Martin’s eyes scanned the table, taking it all in.

“This all for me…?”

“I told you, tonight we’re doing a bit more training.” Douglas offered a smirk. “Go get washed up before it wanders off the plate, now.”

Martin didn’t take long to get cleaned up, and when he got back, Douglas pulled out his seat for him like a proper gentleman. It made the captain feel rather special.

“I thought you said second dates should be recreational.”

“Well, you were coming home in the evening, there wouldn’t be much daylight. But I do have something recreational planned.”

“Oh?” Martin cut into his meal with his fork, and it was as tender as butter.

“Yes. I thought I’d give you a lesson in dancing.”

Douglas glanced up in time to see Martin’s already rosy cheeks grow redder. “Oh, well… I-I suppose I’ll be needing that someday.”

“My thoughts exactly. In fact, you have a lot to learn, if our conversation last night is anything to go by.” He smirked playfully.

“You think so?” Martin fidgeted in his seat.

“Well, you’re not the worst date, but you’re not a natural, either, to be honest.” Douglas’ smirk softened more into a smile, hoping Martin could tell he didn’t mean any offense by that. Just constructive criticism.

“Yes, well… I suppose a bit more practice would do me good.” Martin chewed and swallowed a bite of fish. “Especially after tonight.”

Douglas raised an eyebrow, feeling his confidence boost just that much more. “After tonight?”

“Yes.” Martin grinned, looking suddenly quite pleased, and just a bit embarrassed. “I, um… I got a number.”

Douglas’ raised eyebrow dropped, and he felt his stomach do the same. “… A number?”

Martin nodded, smile widening. “Yeah, can you believe it? The woman I helped move today. She was very sweet, and knew a bit about planes, even. We chatted a bit, and ah…” The captain raised his chin, looking quite proud of himself. “Before I left, I had her number.”

“… Oh.”

Martin’s smile faded. “What, what’s that look?”

“Look? No, I’m just a bit surprised is all.” Douglas cleared his throat. “I mean, here you were, lamenting your terrible luck with women, and now…”

“Perhaps some of your luck’s rubbed off on me.” Martin dug back into his meal.

 _Some of it has appeared to have rubbed off of me,_ Douglas thought as he stared down at his plate. He suddenly didn’t feel very hungry.

This was a feeling Douglas didn’t feel often, but it was one of the worst feelings in the world for him. When his plans didn’t work, when things were falling apart and he felt like he could do nothing but watch. But this, this was his fault. He’d told himself in the beginning not to get too hopeful, but with a track record like his, it was hard not to hope.

_Ah yes, three divorces, one of them cheats on you, a splendid track record._

“Douglas?”

Douglas cleared his throat, snapping out of his reverie. He put on a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Pardon me, I’m just a bit out of sorts today.” The first officer knew he could go one of two ways with this. He could give up for now; let Martin see if he and this woman could become something, and be there to snatch up the opportunity should things not work out for them. Or, he could fight for his chance now, put out all the stops and make Martin forget all about this woman.

_You always did say you liked a challenge._

Normally, the latter would have been the route he would have taken, but somehow, Douglas had trouble being as confident as he usually was. Martin was younger than him, and no doubt he’d enjoy the company of someone more his age. Not to mention, being with a woman meant he wouldn’t have to struggle with his sexuality as much. He could… have a normal relationship, with a normal person. Not the old has-been that was Douglas Richardson.

Martin looked so happy about this. He looked so proud.

“Perhaps… we’ll reschedule the dance lessons. I’m sure you’ve been on your feet enough today.”

****

Martin had finally gotten up the courage to call this woman a couple days later and scheduled a date. Douglas watched from the doorway of the bathroom as the captain tried to tame his hair in the mirror. The first officer let him. He was being immature, but he already didn’t like this woman, and she didn’t deserve to see Martin at his best, curly hair and all.

“So where are you and this lovely lady off to tonight?” Douglas tried to keep his voice mildly disinterested.

“Small local restaurant. Nothing fancy, but affordable, and we can talk.” He took a deep breath as he inspected his reflection. “God, I’m nervous. Butterflies and everything.” He chuckled.

“Mm…”

“Are you feeling any better, by the way? You’ve been ‘out of sorts’ for a few days now.”

“Oh, yes, I’ll be fine. Bit of fatigue, I suppose.” He looked down at the shirt Martin was wearing. Another button-up, not too formal or casual, and in a lovely shade of blue. It complemented his fiery hair quite nicely and brought out the sky blue hue of his eyes. “… I think you should go with the yellow shirt.”

“Oh… You think so?” Martin blinked and looked down at his clothes.

“Yes. Nice sunny color.”

“Well… I suppose you know best.”

“Likes planes, does she? This, um… Linda?” Douglas asked conversationally.

“Lily, and yeah. Not an expert, but she likes them enough.”

“Mm, I imagine her knowledge of aviation is nothing compared to Encyclopedia Crieff.”

“Well, I’ve studied…” Martin walked out of the bathroom, and Douglas moved to let him by. He went to his room to change into his pale yellow shirt, which was a bit big and hung off his thin frame. But just as Douglas had suggested. The first officer felt a tad guilty, but only a tad. He didn’t want Martin looking too nice for his rendezvous with this pretty plane-loving woman.

But damn it all if Martin didn’t look stunning anyway.

“This better?” He asked Douglas, buttoning the last few buttons all the way up to the top. Douglas scoffed, stepping forward to unbutton the top two, and silently lamenting that he had to stop there.

“There, now it is. Untuck your shirt, though, you aren’t meeting the queen.”

****

Martin wasn’t home until late that night. Douglas knew, because he’d stayed up and waited with a book on the couch. He couldn’t focus for a moment on his book, however. His mind was riddled with terrible thoughts. Thoughts of Martin. Thoughts of Martin laughing with a woman. Wining and dining with a woman. Of a woman’s hand resting gently over Martin’s during conversation, and of Martin being more comfortable with that than he could ever be with Douglas holding his hand. Martin smiling, the way he did when he was actually, genuinely happy, the kind of smile that wrinkled the corners of his eyes and showed off his brilliantly white teeth. The kind of smile that made Douglas smile too, and no doubt it would get a grin out of her.

And what if they danced? What if she was the one who held him close and whispered in his ear? What if she was lucky enough to get that kiss?

“Douglas?”

Douglas started, jolting awake from his half-awake-half-dreaming state at the captain’s voice. He’d dozed off in his recliner.

“Ah, Martin…” He cleared his throat. “How was, um…?” He gestured vaguely with his hand and sat up.

“It’s pretty late, Douglas, what are you still doing up?” Martin kept his voice quiet, as if Douglas were still asleep.

“I was reading. Notice,” he held up the book in his hand.

“Oh…”

“… I’ll ask again, how did you fare?”

“Hm? Oh, fine, fine… Yeah, great.” Martin smiled. “We, um, we have another date next week.”

“Lucky you.” Douglas stood out of his recliner, rolling his shoulders and wincing.

“… Are you sure you’re alright, Douglas?”

“Just a bit of a back ache, it happens at my age.”

“No, I mean… N-Never mind…”

“Goodnight, Martin.” Douglas made his way to his room.

“Goodnight…”


	9. Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guys we are done, and it has been an honor fanficing with you all.  
> I'm glad I got it done before break ended, because lord knows I wouldn't have the patience to finish it with school to distract me. But hopefully more fanfics to come!  
> I hope you've enjoyed this fic as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

The next few weeks were hell.

Douglas and Martin began to talk very little. This was mostly Douglas’ fault, as he found he had less and less to say to his copilot. At least, less that he would allow himself to say. Even on flights, word games were subdued, and there wasn’t much energy in the flight deck until Arthur arrived.

Douglas was being childish, but then again, he often was. He simply wasn’t sure how to cope with the feeling of getting his hopes up for a man he saw every day, only to have his plans squashed by a chance encounter with some lovely plane-loving woman. He’d been rejected before – Yes, even the famous sky god couldn’t win them all over – but usually that pain was softened by some space between him and the object of his affections. That, and he hadn’t fallen so completely and utterly for most of the people who rejected him. But Martin lived with him, and, unluckily for Douglas, the first officer was far too smitten with him. He still had no idea how it happened. It had been quite a while since anyone had made that strange fuzzy ache in Douglas’ chest. Probably not since he was younger. Yet, here was the most unlikely man in the world for him to love, and he loved him far too much.

Martin was planning to move out. He had a few places in mind now, and he was simply trying to make a decision and discuss some deals with landlords. A few times, he asked for advice from Douglas, but the first officer provided little help. Martin knew something was wrong with him, but it felt wrong to intrude. He felt guilty, almost like this was his fault somehow, and if he asked, Douglas would only confirm it.

The dating advice stopped. The trial dating ended. When Martin went out on a date with Lily, Douglas would avoid him, and he felt ashamed.

Which, of course, was a ridiculous way to feel, but that didn’t stop it from keeping Martin awake at night.

Either way, one thing was certain: Martin wasn’t happy with the way things were. Something had to change, but it wouldn’t all be fixed simply by Martin moving out. He actually dreaded the thought of leaving, but he thought he had little choice when his presence made Douglas so miserable. He thought about it very hard one night while he lied awake, staring at the ceiling and feeling dread pool in his stomach, and he came to a conclusion that was both painful and a relief: His unhappiness wasn’t caused by his dating, but it certainly wasn’t helping as much as it should have been. He wasn’t happy with Lily. It was a relief to discover just what exactly had been one of the weights on his heart, but it was painful to realize that, for all his terrible luck with women, here was one who was lovely, simply lovely and perfect for him, and he felt very little for her. 

It made no sense, really. Lily was attractive and kind and patient. She listened to all of Martin’s aviation tangents with a small amused smile and without a hint of annoyance. She thought he was great, and it wasn’t often Martin met anyone who thought very highly of him. And, as Martin learned after the first week of dating her, she was a great kisser.

But Martin didn’t feel the things he had expected to feel. He supposed this was what people meant when they said there was no “spark.” Well, maybe she thought there was, but for him…

This was the first time Martin had been in a one-sided relationship without him being the one with unrequited feelings, and it was a tad frightening. He wanted to ask Douglas for advice, but Douglas had been so distant lately, and… Well, he didn’t want to bother him with his own silly issues.

He decided it was time to end things. He’d never broken up with a woman before, so naturally he was nervous and at a loss as for what to do, but he decided the best course of action was to first call her up and invite her out somewhere nice. Not too nice, but a little café for drinks. Comfortable, informal. Unfortunately, the van was currently in the shop (eating into his New Flat funds), and he only realized this dilemma after setting the date. Lily was understanding, though. She offered to drive.

The entire time there, Martin had a hard time gathering up the courage to say what he’d come there to say. He barely sipped his tea, and made polite, awkward conversation. Just as he was about to start his “We should probably have a talk” speech, Lily took his hand. It wasn’t the first time, but now it felt… wrong. Uncomfortable.

“Something the matter?” she asked in her lovely little Irish accent, noticing the way Martin stared down at their hands with pursed lips. Martin blinked up at her.

“Oh, no, no, nothing…” _Yes, something is the matter, now just tell her._

“Good. Well, we’ve been here a while, hm? Shall I drive you home?”

“Ah, sure, whenever you’re ready to go.” _You’re running out of time, Crieff._

It was midafternoon when Lily’s car arrived at Douglas’ flat, and Martin noted how the Lexus was gone from the small parking lot outside where it usually sat.

“Douglas must be out shopping,” he said quietly to himself, stalling before he said what it was he knew he had to say.

“Is he?” Lily looked around too, though she only had a vague idea of which car belonged to Martin’s flatmate. “Fancy that.”

Martin drew in a deep breath. “Look, Lily…” he started, but then paused as he struggled to keep a hold of his courage. Lily looked at him with expectant eyes.

“… I—“

“Would you like to invite me in?” She smiled at him.

“Wh—Oh, um… Sure, you can…” He muttered a reply with a small smile, unbuckling and climbing out of the car. Maybe it’d be easier somewhere more comfortable.

Martin let her in, hanging up his and her jackets by the door before leading her to the living room. Lily looked around the flat curiously. Sure enough, no one was around.

“Can I get you anything?” Martin offered politely.

“No, I think we’ve had enough to drink.” Martin laughed a bit too forcefully at that. He sat next to her on the couch, fidgeting nervously.

“… So.” He sighed.

“So?” She was turned to face him, one leg folded beneath her and one arm over the back of the couch.

“I… W-Well, I had something I wanted to talk to you about, b-but, um…”

“Hm?” She moved a curly strand of hair from out of Martin’s face. He swallowed.

“But, I… I’m afraid I’m not sure… how to begin…”

“I think I know how you could.”

“… Y-You do?”

“Mhm…” Suddenly she was closer, much closer, too close, and her breath tickled Martin’s jaw as she placed a warm kiss by his ear. Martin tensed. It suddenly became clear that Lilly had some very different plans from his.

“L-Lily, I—“

“You could start by not talking,” she whispered, and further emphasized this point by moving her kisses to his mouth.

_No. No, this is bad, this is bad, Martin. Abort. Abort._

But that was just one thing he knew he was going to miss about Lily. She had a fantastic kissing technique that left his mind fuzzy and lips willing, and he found himself hesitating to break away.

She shifted, breaking the kiss only briefly so she could straddle his lap.

_Martin, you need to stop right now. Stop all of this. Break up with her._

Her hands began to unbutton his shirt.

_Martin!_

His hands moved into her hair.

_Stop this now!_

The door opened.

“Honestly, Douglas, I think it would be brilliant if—“ Arthur’s cheery voice came in through the front door as he carried a couple of brown paper grocery bags into the flat. He looked nearly ready to drop them in shock when he saw the pair on the couch.

“… Skip?” His voice sounded confused and hurt.

Martin quickly buttoned his shirt back up, and Lily began to straighten her hair a bit as Douglas walked in. The captain looked up in time to see a myriad of emotions flash through his flatmate’s eyes before they settled on enraged heat. Martin thought Douglas’ cheeks might have been almost as red as his.

“Douglas…” His voice was weak, and he felt frozen.

“Oh. My apologies, Martin. Please, don’t let us ruin your little _rendezvous_ in my living room.” His voice seared Martin with something hateful, and he strode past the pair into the kitchen to deposit his groceries.

Martin’s eyes followed him. “Douglas…”

“I-Is this your flatmate?” Lily inquired nervously, feeling the tension in the air.

Arthur still stood by the door, staring at Martin in horror. “Skip… How could you…?”

“Come, Arthur, perhaps we should leave the two little love birds to it,” Douglas called from the kitchen, and returned after quickly throwing the most perishable food into the refrigerator and slamming it closed. He took the bags Arthur was holding and placed them down by the door with a bit more force than necessary. “Wouldn’t want to ruin his little _date._ ”

Lily blinked in confusion and looked between Douglas and the gaping captain beside her. “Martin, what’s he mean…?”

“Douglas, wait—“ Martin got up from the couch to follow them, but Arthur was swiftly being tugged out the door, which was slammed behind him and Douglas. The captain stood there staring after them, cold dread seeping down from his heart into his stomach.

He didn’t notice Lily had gotten up until a hard slap hit his face.

“You know, I thought you were different, Martin Crieff,” she spoke just as coldly as Douglas had, but her voice was just a bit choked as she grabbed her jacket from the hook.

Martin blinked dazedly at her. “Lily, it’s not—“

“Is that what you wanted to ‘talk’ about? Your _'flatmate?'_ ” She pushed her arms through the sleeve of his coat furiously. “Well, I refuse to do this! I refuse to be the other woman, o-or other… whatever!”

“H-He’s not my—“

“Good _bye,_ Martin!” And again, the door was slammed in his face.

Martin was always the one to be broken up with, never to do the breaking up.

****

“… Are you sure you’re alright, Douglas?” Arthur asked quietly in the car as they drove on to… well, neither of them knew where. He was looking at Douglas with sympathetic eyes.

Douglas stared ahead at the road before them. Things had gotten a bit lonely when he and Martin hadn’t been talking, and he had somehow ended up inviting Arthur along to do some errands, for a bit of company. Perhaps it was a bit desperate, but he’d hoped some of the steward’s cheery mood would infect him and lessen the dull ache in his chest that he’d felt nonstop for the past couple months. He hadn’t been expecting Martin to have… company. And now, with Arthur there, things got a bit more complicated.

“I’m fine, Arthur…”

“I… I can’t believe Skip could do something like that…”

Douglas sighed. “Look, Arthur…”

“I really thought he loved you, I mean… The way you two acted around each other…”

Douglas swallowed and closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Arthur, it’s… it’s not quite what you think.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Martin isn’t exactly… cheating on me.”

A glance over at the steward confirmed the confusion on his face. “What… What d’you mean?” he repeated. Then after a moment, his eyes widened and saddened. “Oh, Douglas… You haven’t broken up, have you?”

Douglas considered how to answer that. He still felt guilty giving away any of Martin’s secrets, no matter how close he was to moving out anyway. (Though, the latest hiccup with his van may have delayed that plan for a bit longer.)

“No, we… we were never really together, Arthur.”

“But…” Arthur’s brow creased. “But you said—“

“Martin ran into a bit of a money issue, and I offered him a place to stay for a while. It was cheaper for him, and he could get a head start on some of his bills.”

Arthur still sounded terribly confused. “Then… Why didn’t you chaps just say?”

“You know your captain. He’s a prideful creature. Didn’t want it getting out that he needed help.”

“Well, everyone needs help sometimes, there’s nothing wrong with it!”

Douglas frowned, feeling guilty that he’d started this whole charade in the first place. “I know.”

“So… You chaps aren’t really dating?”

“No, Arthur.”

“Well, why?”

“I’ve already told you, he—“

“No, I mean… Why not? I mean when you were acting like you were, you were both so happy. It was brilliant!”

Douglas sighed. “In case you failed to notice, Arthur, Martin is already taken.”

“Oh. Right,” Arthur replied softly. “But… do you want to?”

“What?”

“Do you want to date him?”

“Don’t be daft…” Douglas took just a bit too long to answer. It wasn’t that he had a problem with lying, but he found himself caught a bit off guard by a question that hit so close to home, especially from Arthur. Of course he wanted to be with Martin, but no one was supposed to know, not when the first officer was such a fool for feeling that way. He liked to keep his failures hidden, when he could. 

But somehow, Arthur caught that sad look in his eyes.

“It’s okay if you do, you know. It’s okay to feel a certain way, even if Skip’s already got a girlfriend. Sometimes, you can’t help what you feel.”

Douglas didn’t respond. Why did Arthur have to choose a moment like this to be so perceptive?

****

It was late when Douglas returned home. He’d long since driven Arthur to his house, but he spent some more time driving and thinking, and then sitting in a parked car outside his flat thinking some more. He’d acting irrationally today, and he had no right to be so passive aggressive with Martin. So he was kissing a woman on the couch… It would have still been irritating had he not been smitten with the captain, he supposed, but he overreacted. When he let that sink in, he felt embarrassed about his own actions.

He entered the flat, noticing that the bags he’d left behind were gone. Martin must have put the groceries away. He felt a little guiltier knowing the captain had done such a thoughtful thing, considering how Douglas had left him.

Martin wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but there were few places he could go without his van. Douglas made his way to the door of his room, hesitating outside before knocking gently. “Martin…? Are you awake?”

There was a ruffling from inside the room before the door opened ajar. It was hard to meet Martin’s eyes, but Douglas forced himself to. “May I have a word?”

The captain seemed to hesitate a moment before letting him in. Douglas’ heart sank when he saw the room full of newly-packed boxes.

“I thought you had to postpone—“

“Well, I… decided maybe I shouldn’t.”

The two stood awkwardly. Martin’s arms were folded as he gripped his elbows and looked around the floor.

“… Martin, I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting any of… what you witnessed. I’d only planned to talk to her, and, well…” He shrugged. “She didn’t want to talk much.”

“It’s fine, I overreacted. I… haven’t exactly been myself lately.”

Martin sat on the edge of his bed, not offering Douglas a seat. He didn’t think he had to. This was still Douglas’ home. “I’m sure I haven’t been helping…”

“No, Martin, none of how I’ve been acting is your fault. I take full responsibility for my own actions, and I promise to respect your privacy from now on. Just… perhaps ring me, first.” He ignored the boxes on the floor that made his offer seem a bit late and silly.

“Don’t need to worry about that anymore, though…”

Douglas couldn’t ignore the boxes now. “Right…”

“She broke up with me.”

Douglas looked up at him finally, gaping. “Martin, I… Did I—“

“No, no, it’s fine.” Martin offered a weak smile. “I had planned to end it anyway. Just hadn’t planned on her being the one to break up with me, thinking I was cheating on someone.”

Douglas somehow deflated a little more. Tentatively, he walked over to Martin and sat beside him. “Well… She wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines. I had to have a talk with Arthur.”

Martin huffed out a weak laugh. “What’d you tell him.”

“That we… broke up.”

“Ah…” Martin looked down at his hands, ears going just a bit pink. “So he doesn’t think too badly of me, does he?”

“No, he still thinks his captain is just as brilliant as ever.”

“Glad someone thinks so…” Douglas hated the way Martin sounded so small and dejected. He sighed softly, placing a broad hand over both of Martin’s slender ones, folded on the captain’s lap.

“For what it’s worth… I happen to think you’re a bit brilliant, myself.”

Martin smiled a bit more genuinely, and a pink hue spread from his ears to his cheeks. His eyes were cast down at their hands, but Douglas saw a bit of blue sparkle out from beneath his lashes.  
****

“And, one two three, one two three— Ah!”

“Sorry!” Martin apologized, looking down at the foot he’d just stepped on. Douglas, waved it off.

“I certainly hope you don’t find yourself needing to waltz any time soon, I’m afraid your rhythm is terrible.” Rather than offend the captain, the comment made him laugh.

“I’m sorry,” he said again between giggles, and Douglas couldn’t help but grin.

“Not to worry; You’re learning.” Douglas had no snappy remarks this time. Only encouragement. “Perhaps we should take it a bit slower, though.” He leaned over to the mantel, where his phone had been docked to some speakers and was playing music. He changed it to something a bit slower and less complicated than _Künstlerleben._

Martin’s blush grew a bit more, but his smile remained as Douglas returned his hand to the small of his back, the other hand keeping a gentle grip of Martin’s. The captain laid his hand not currently occupied with Douglas’ on the first officer’s upper arm. Together, they took smaller steps back and forth, and as the music grew lighter, their steps faded into gentle swaying. The room seemed much bigger now, with all the furniture moved off to the side and their steps not filling up the floor.

Martin felt the heat from his face as he looked down at his feet, trying to be certain that he wouldn’t somehow mess this dance up as well.

“Maintain eye contact,” Douglas instructed, pulling the captain closer so he couldn’t be tempted to look at his feet again. Martin looked back up at him. The first officer was smiling softly, and his dark eyes seemed to glimmer a bit.

The dating lessons had begun again not too long after Martin’s split with Lily, and they certainly helped take his mind off things. It also helped that Douglas had been in better spirits lately, and he and Martin had finally begun talking again.

Martin had postponed his moving date. He felt much less rushed when every day for the past week, Douglas had some new lesson for him.

Keeping eye contact proved difficult for the captain, as he felt his face become somehow warmer every time he did, even if his smile never faded. It made Douglas tisk softly.

“Really, Captain, if you can’t look at me, how do you expect to show any confidence around some pretty lady?”

“Or man,” Martin muttered. He’d finally admitted to himself that that may be an option for him. He knew, at least, that after Douglas’ lessons, he could get comfortable having another man’s hand placed over his own at dinner. And having another man dance with him wasn’t so terrible.

“Or a pretty _man,_ ” Douglas corrected himself with a smirk. “Apologies.” He pulled Martin in closer, deciding that if he couldn’t get the younger man to look at him, he’d just have to work with it. Martin’s hair brushed Douglas’ cheek. The F.O. took delight in how untamed and curly it was today.

Martin wasn’t quite tall enough to lean his chin on Douglas’ shoulder, but his cheek brushed against the fabric of his shirt lightly as he smiled at the scent of his friend’s cologne.

“You know,” Douglas muttered by Martin’s ear. “I do believe you’re getting the hang of this dating thing. I think our lessons may almost be at an end.”

Martin blinked, and Douglas could practically feel the ginger’s spirits fall some. “Oh… You think?” He tried to sound conversational, but his disappointment was hard to miss.

“Indeed. But I still have at least one more lesson for you.” He pulled away a bit, and Martin finally met his eyes.

“You do?”

“Mmm,” Douglas hummed. His voice was like satin. “And I think you’ll enjoy this one more than dancing.”

Martin stood frozen as soft lips were pressed to his. It didn’t take long for him to melt into it, however. Douglas continued to sway them both gently, the kiss matching their slow pace.

“Well, you seem to be quite good at that already, Captain,” Douglas smiled down at the other man when they parted. His smile only had a hint of a smirk in it.

Martin’s heart twittered about in his ribcage, and he was at a loss for words. The shade of red he’d gone was charming to Douglas, and the look in those sky blue eyes made his own heart thump pleasantly.

“But if you’d like, I could still—“

He didn’t have the opportunity to finish that sentence, as he was pulled firmly down for another lesson.

Dancing became like flying, and Douglas' living room carpet was replace with open sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending is a lot nicer when listening to a waltz: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gqS_fFNiqKg  
> At least it was nicer writing it to music.
> 
> Also, I hope none of you were lactose intolerant because that ending was made of cheese and I'm sorry.


End file.
